I Miss Being an Assassin
by Haddrian
Summary: Altaïr is now the Headmaster of the Order. Not use to paper and administrative work he comes to Malik for advices.


**All right, I'm giving it a try! First fan fiction ever! First long text in English! Please be kind, but feel free to report me any mistake.**

The warm wind brushing against his skin, the excitement off the fall, the feeling of almightiness, the landing that always came too soon, those were the things Malik missed the most. The Leap of Faith, it as always been his favourite part in an assassination mission. Running like the wind with guards chasing until the edge of the roof, the contraction of the muscles in preparation for the jump and the fall. Al Mualim, that stinking traitor, thought he'd reward him in giving him the Jerusalem Bureau, but he'd been mistaken. The four walls, the roof, the desk and the paperwork bitterly reminded him of a glorious part of him life now irremediably gone.

Even though he was now dead, the traitor's administration remained. The order was nothing but chaos: so many dead, no leader and a gigantic riddle to solve. Altaïr being the highest ranked of the remaining Assassins was to become the next Master. Even Malik, with all the reason he could have had to hate him had to admit there were no better choices. His latest demotion had brought maturity and actual common sense in that hotshot's head.

Trained together since their younger age, their had become quite good friends. Which was rare among the Assassin's brotherhood. With death hiding behind every bent, and striking mercilessly, friendship and any other kind of human bond for that matter were excruciatingly hard to build. This is why, Masiaf being far from Jerusalem, Malik was more than surprised to hear Altaïr low voice in his bureau.

-Malik! Safety and peace, brother!

Hiding his surprise being his usual neutral face he calmly responded:

-Altaïr, your visit here is most surprising. What business brings you here?

- I was crumbling under paper work and trifling matters my friend. You have no idea how hard it is to be the Headmaster of Masiaf!

-If you have such responsibilities why are you not attending to them!

- Malik, I will go mad. I had to deal with peasants who were arguing over a stolen rug! I am an Assassin, not a mayor!

So much for maturity and common sense… thought the leader now sighting.

-How do you do to take care of all that crap Malik! How can you not miss it all? screamed the newly appointed Headmaster making a pile of parchments crush on the floor. I miss the action, the excitement, the horseback ride, the stupid guards… How can you survive in here? Seeing all these assassins pass by and have all the fun?

The Master Assassin's words made Malik shift uncomfortably. He turned around to hide his ashamed face, feeling his impassive mask crumble.

-I "survive" as you say by drinking, eating, sleeping like any other human being Altaïr.

-That's not what I meant Malik, I want…

-You want to know how I can be happy in that mess, replied angrily the Bureau Leader turning harshly to face his colleague, Well maybe I am NOT happy! Maybe I wish I could still be running on the roof, climbing on top of these high towers. Maybe I "survive" as you say. Maybe I don't live anymore!

They both remained still and silent for a minute. Starring in disbelief at each other. One thinking he never should have talked, the other thinking how stupid he must have been to haven't seen it all.

-Malik?, the white robed assassin finally said, come. Come with me.

-Where? I can barely get out of my Bureau. And I have reports to...Eh! Put me down immediately!

Not in the mood for arguing, Altaïr had thrown the smaller men on his shoulder and was climbing the Bureau entrance. Once at the top, he set is now fulminating friend on the ground.

-Altaïr, what's the matter? Have you lost your head? I'm going back down, right now! I have serious matter to attend. I am a busy person! ,hissed the furious leader.

-It's out of the question Malik. I want you to race me to the Minaret. You were always the best at that.

- Altaïr, I can't I… Well, as I'm already out… I could very well do it!, he finished while sprinting to the edge of the roof.

-You cheat! Thought the younger assassin, sprinting after him.

They ran like mad men. Jumping between to roofs over the streets not even hearing nor paying attention to the angry: Are they mad? If they fall I won't help them! and the What?

Seeing he was loosing, Altaïr jumped in an attempt to tackle Malik to the ground, but the older one, sensing the movement turned on him-self to avoid the stretched out arms. Failing to grab his target, the hooded man tumbled to the ground, half laughing half grunting, and dust rising from the blast.

-You cheating bastard! , said the escaping target, running backward so he could see his friend rise from the roof top, his white tunic now partly drown and sandy, When will you accept that I am better than you are!

With that he spun on him self just in time to jump to the next roof.

They finally arrived to the bottom of the tower: A panting Malik first, followed more or less closely by a barely out of breath but sweating Altaïr.

-I give in, Malik. You're better than I am… for running!

- Altaïr… when will you… admit… admit my… almightiness! , panted Malik, boasting is chest with a cocky smile plastered on his face.

-Never! exclaimed the Assassin.

Both where resting their back on the tower wall, catching their breaths. It was much more exhausting to race against a fellow assassin than against poorly trained city guards. Breaking the silence, Altaïr said:

-Now, let's do it!

Under the doubtful gaze of his friend, he started taking of the short blade's sheath and it's strapping, a patch of throwing knives and his sword and sheath. Placing the on the ground carefully, he hid them in over a stone moulding on the wall.

-Altaïr? Would you care to explain what in Allah name you're doing?

-Nothing ou have to be concerned about my friend. Now stop asking unnecessary questions and take off that heavy black coat of yours.

-Altaïr? , said the Bureau Leader while slowly complying, What…

-Hurry, you stupid thinking genius, or we'll miss it!

Placing the coat with his discarded weapons, the white robed assassin said:

-Get on my back… and no questions!

A little smile appeared on the Leader's lips while he understood. So he jumped on his friend's back locking his legs around his waist and his arms encircling his shoulders.

-Thanks, he muttered.

And without a word more, Altaïr began his ascension. Unlike when he was climbing alone, the Assassin chose the easiest path, avoiding jumps and tiny holds, only grabbing large mouldings and windows bars. While Altaïr had to be careful not to slip, Malik had all necessary time to gaze at the landscape. It was almost sundown and a smooth golden light was wrapping the building. The light breeze carrying the smell of the market and ruffling his air was very pleasant. Somewhere in the sky, an eagle screamed as he saw two white dressed men take place on his perch.

The two assassins sat, their legs dangling in the wind and their red belts caught by the breeze. They stayed there until the sun had fully set and the sky had gone dark.

The younger one finally shifted and stood on the wooden beam.

-I think it's time Malik. We need to go down. Come.

Still smiling, Malik got up while watching the sky and walked until the end on the beam.

Altaïr wrapped his left arm around him, bringing his back to his torso.

-Ready? ,he whispered.

-Ready, he nodded.

And it was it. They both jumped at the same time, and extended one arm each. They felt like nothing was moving for what seemed like an eternity and the fall began: The wind bowing in their face, catching their ample cloths, buzzing in their ears. In the middle on their leap, they curved in as one so that they would land on their back. And all of the sudden it was finished. Their backs, Altaïr back, colliding roughly with the hay patch, the weight of Malik on Altaïr rib cage expulsing the air off his lung and dried hay straws covering Malik's body. They stayed motion less for a moment, catching their breath, enjoying the adrenalin rush and mentally evaluation the state of their body. Malik finally shifted and rose from the haystack brushing the straws off his cloths, Altaïr quickly following.

-So, who's the almighty now, eh? Said Altaïr, while they returned to the bureau, a cocky grin stretching his lips.

Malik chuckled lightly.

-You arrogant! Next time we'll race in Massif, to the river! He said while glancing at his friend discreetly.

-The…

Under his hood, Altaïr paled and swallowed with unease…


End file.
